Chuck vs the Crappy Vacation
by Just Chuck
Summary: Totally AU. I mean - TOTALLY. Might be an alternative for the pilot, but probably not. See A/N at end of the chapter for something that makes even less sence than this. WARNING - No idea where this is going (so usual JC Crap)
1. Chuck

AN/ at the end of the chapter

101010101

Charles Irving Bartowski was drunk.

Not a little drunk, not a happy go lucky drunk, a whole lotta drunk.

The type of drunk that somehow always seems to end up with a crappy youtube video of you puking into a something you wish you could get the smell out of when you became sober.

He didn't even plan on having a drink, let alone getting plastered.

When Ellie and Awesome gave him and Morgan their tickets to fly to Australia for a week when Awesome broke his leg while diving out of a plane with a glider strapped to his back and a snowboard onto his feet at this new artificial mountain slope that just opened that he had to be the first in line for, and last as they closed it for repairs right after.

Besides, as Ellie pointed out repeatedly, he just broke up with his long term girlfriend Jill and needed to get away, see something new and to go recharge his batteries.

But no, he was not planning to get this drunk.

Morgan had to go try the local cuisine the moment they checked into the hotel, and he had to drag his sole mate along.

Why Chuck agreed to meet Morgan into the bar in the first place was still a mystery, but there he was sitting down with an appletini.

Chuck made a mental note not to let Morgan order the drinks again.

Morgan however was in seventh heaven going on about some sort of desert. The look he has in his eye was like a man who had not eaten in a month looking at a all you can eat buffet.

That's when it all went to crap.

A loud slam from the back of the bar made him glance around.

Jill

Or at least it was enough Jill like to make him order something Morgan recommended.

OK, maybe after that he was thinking about getting a little drunk.

That was late, it was dark out side.

Now, not so much.

What happened next he could not remember as he slowly opened his eyes and looked at the bed he did not recognize, in a hotel room he did not recognize, the blonde goddess wearing nothing but his "Nerd Extreme" shirt standing over him holding a gun that he did not recognize?

Wait.

Goddess?

Gun?

Oh crap.

That was his last thought as he felt something hit him on the butt and his eyes fluttered closed.

10101010

A/N

Again, nothing in the Chuck universe is mine, and I make nothing but silent fanfare (those who get where this comes from, forgive me.)

Totally non beta'ed.

This is my attempt to try to get my Chuckies Angels block done so I can finish Castle full of Bones. Got done most of my heavy time consuming life responsibilities in September and I've trying for weeks and nothing so I decided to just write a bunch of plots out see where it takes me. This one seemed kind of fun, so I went with it.

No idea if I will contuine this, I'm leaving it open to the whim of the public.

Again, I think all authors, including my crappy self, enjoy getting constructive feedback, but I'll take the good, the bad, and the growling Casey.

And than you for taking the time to read my crap.

JC


	2. Sarah

Sarah Lisa Walker was having a really bad freaking crappy day.

This was suppose to be a super easy, in and out job,

Falling off a bike kind of easy.

HE had promised.

She was on her way to take a well deserved vacation when Director Graham called her at the airport in Mexico to divert to Australia because there was someone somehow connected to a project that she never heard of that she apparently did not have clearance to know about had slipped the NSA's surveillance and she was to make sure he returned to the states, alive and unharmed without revealing herself as a government agent, or to mention anything about something called Orion. She assumed that was the project this guy was working on.

So like a good little agent, she put all her feeling about murdering her traitorous low down scummy now 12 hours old ex boyfriend Bryce on the back burner after throwing a penny in a wishing well and wished for his precious hair to fall out, she headed for Sydney on the long flight with numerous stops and of course the plane ran out of red wine.

Getting the mission details on her phone, she pulled up a picture of her mark.

This was supposed to be super easy.

Cute. Love how his hair makes those funny shapes.

He should have been an easy mark.

She figured she would make the best of it, find the guy, work off some stress after Bryce, then get him to follow her back to the US like a love sick puppy where the NSA can take over and she can then call Carina and hit Monte Carlo and just get her freak on.

Finding him, that was so incredibly easy. As she was checking into the same hotel she spotted him entering the bar.

So far it has been easy… right… easy

She went to her room. Looking into the mirror, she decided that a little change was in order. Putting on a long brunette wig and glasses, a more professional business suite (this was a science guy – right, he was probably use to this type right?). As nice as she looked, she knew a drunken one armed paper hanger could get her out of this suite in less than 30 seconds.

She gave herself a wink in the mirror before she headed out the door. At least this mark was a step up from the paper hanger. With one hand, it still seemed to be everywhere.

As soon as she entered the bar, and that's when the first complication kicked her in the crap maker.

WTF!  
HE WAS GAY!

There he was. Seated at a table, drinking an appletini.

A FLIPPIN APPLETINI!

What made it worse, this… this… bearded monkey was seated across from the mark and looked at him like a school girl on her first crush.

Sarah Lisa Walker – not one, not twice but three times in the same day, rejected by men who appear to be swinging for the other team. First Bryce, then she went to that agent in charge Shaw, and now this… this... low down excuse for a mark!

What am I, the ugly sister? Do I have two heads? She was trained by the CIA to seduce. THE FRACKEN CIA. Why are men saying no to her today? Sarah Walker does not get NO from a man. To her CIA first and foremost stands for: CHECKOUT my INCREDIABLE ASSETS.

When did the world hit a crap pile?

She stormed up to the bar she ordered a shot class and a bottle of anything 80 proof and sat down in a secluded table in the back.

Sure one guy came over, hitting on her, something about her high heels and the chair seat that they were on, but after she slammed his head into the table, no one else attempted to even make eye contact with her.

Might have had something to do with the fact that he was a 6'2 muscle bound guy with "Bouncer" written across his shirt, but he since "bouncy' went nappy, she made a note to think about asking about it later.

Somewhere past the fifth shot she remembered she was there for a reason.

Getting up, and rubbing her chest she walked into the bathroom turned on the light.

Huh?

Shower?

Bathroom?

Where am I?

How did I get here?

What's that noise?

She cracked open the door and peered into what she thought must be her brightly lit hotel room. She saw her luggage in the corner.

But she was in the bar.

Wasn't she?

Her wig was on the bed, and her suite was ripped to shreds on the floor.

She closed her eyes before looking at herself in the mirror.

Nothing but birthday suit …

…and what looked like a tattoo of someone's signature on her entire chest.

CRAP CRAP CRAP CRAP CRAP!

WHAT THE HECK HAPPENED LAST NIGHT

Hearing a rustling from she looked back into the room, turned towards the snoring sound.

The mark, last night, right, there was a mark.

In the mark is my bed.

Covered only by a sheet.

Oh my.

Looking past the mark on the bed she walked over to the other side where the beaded monkey was asleep snoring with the marks shirt over his head, and no less than six darts in his back.

Right tranq gun.

Crap her head hurts.

Double crap, tattoo.

Look around she saw the gun a lying by the pillow, next to her wig. Quietly walking over she pulled the shirt off the strange little man and walked back to the other side of the bed.

She had just started pulling the shirt over her head when the mark started moving.

Pulling the shirt down at the same time grabbing the gun, she pulled the trigger.

Collapsing down on the bed, she held her head in her hands and was thankful that the bearded one was still fully clothed.

Crap her head hurt

.

And her chest hurt.

Now what the crap happened last night?


End file.
